A Woman of Pleasure
by iasant
Summary: AU. Maka Albarn and her father have fallen on hard times. In order to keep them alive Maka takes her father's friend up on an opportunity to join his group of girls who live in the seedy underworld of sex. When sold to a wealthy man for the purpose of keeping his rebellious son, Soul Eater Evans out of trouble, Maka gets a little bit more than she originally bargained for.
1. Stein's Academy of Delicate Young Women

It had been raining for the better part of an hour now. The clouds had been threatening to set loose the entire day, but she'd begun to hold out hope that maybe it wouldn't start until she was actually settled in. Maka Albarn had been stuck inside of a carriage for almost a full day now and she was beyond tired of it. At first, she'd been glad to leave the confines of the smokey city of London and all the stench of sickness and poverty, but at this point not even the beauty of autumn could hold her attention. She let out a heavy sigh and brought a fingernail to her mouth to nervously chew at.

"Hey, you can't do that. Those were cleaned up just this morning." The voice was gentle, but stern. It belonged to her escort, Miss Marie. Marie was a kindly looking woman in her thirties with blonde hair. On several occasions she had tried to make friendly conversation with the much younger girl, but Maka hadn't really been much in the mood to converse. Still, she followed her directions and removed the fingernail from her teeth and let out another dramatic sigh. "We should be there shortly." Marie asked her, offering a small smile. "Nervous?" Maka shook her head.

It was a blatant lie, because once she left this carriage, every single thing in her life was going to change. Oh, who was she even kidding? Life had changed weeks ago when she'd made the decision to go into this business. Her official title was that of a personal assistant. Better known as a courtesan. Better known as a whore. The idea of it made her stomach turn. It was not a business that a proper lady would have chosen, but she'd never really succeeded at being a proper lady. Still, she wasn't quite sure what had pushed her to think this was a good idea.

Oh right, they'd desperately needed the money.

Of course, she wasn't just any common street whore. No, the company of women that Miss Marie worked for had specifically welcomed her in to be trained in the ways of entertaining men. She would be assigned to a single young gentleman, so as to keep him from wandering around to other women. Maka was going to be a toy, so to speak; something to keep some rich young brat entertained so that he wouldn't be shoving his unmentionables into every woman that happened across his path. She'd be at his beck and call whenever a need arose. Maka was pretty sure there was a flaw in the theory of the business, considering that she knew men grew tired of having one woman, but she was in no place to point out those sorts of things. The money was impressive and it was her only thought when she had made the decision to join up with the underside of "Stein's Academy of Delicate Young Women."

Just a year ago, Maka would have laughed in anyone's face if they had told her she would soon be an escort to a wealthy young man. Life back then had been relatively normal; not good, but acceptable. They hadn't always been dirt poor or afraid of going hungry. Once her father had been a soldier for the royal army and had even been promoted to leading one of the troops. Her father had been a hero, but a terrible accident had left him unable to fight or even really work, and now he was more of a joke. Alcohol and women had become the crutch for his soul and her mother had abandoned them years ago, tired of a life she had not signed up for. As if Maka had somehow chosen such for herself. The thought had occurred to her more than once to run away and abandon him. Leave him alone to rot in filth that he'd dug them into. Still, this was still her father, and whether she loved him or despised him, she couldn't just abandon him. Maka was all her father had and she was the only real joy in his life. So no matter how angry she got, no matter how much she screamed at him and blamed him for everything that had ever been wrong in her life, she couldn't leave. For years, odd jobs had been enough. There were flowers to sell on the street, houses to clean, and errands to run for the local shops. It didn't feather their beds, but it kept food in their bellies.

Then the fever had hit.

Spirit Albarn had been hit badly and Maka had been almost positive that he was going to die. She remembered sitting by his bed while he cried out for a wife that was nowhere to be found and screamed from war memories that attacked his mind. Despite that she'd hated herself for it, she'd cried and cried over him. She'd even dared beg him to stay with her. A bad father, was after all, still a father and she was terrified of being alone in the world. Lying there, weak and defenseless, she'd just been a scared little girl who wanted her daddy to come back to her. Somehow, while other, healthier people had died around them, he had survived. Survived, but just barely. Now on top of food bills and living expenses there had been medical bills. Spirit was going to need to take medication for the rest of his life. She'd tried to work overtime, tried to get those extra coins needed, but she knew something was going to have to give if they were both going to live.

Enter the great Professor Franken Stein. A man of eclectic talents, where no one was quite sure of his actual professional standing. Was he a soldier? A doctor? A teacher? None of the above? All anyone really knew was that the man had questionable motives but he could certainly get a job done. A longtime friend of her father's, Maka had known him for quite a few years. Both he and her father had worked together on the battlefield and if it wasn't for the eccentric, heavily scarred, young man, her father might not have survived. She supposed they owed him for that much. Still, it was really hard to get a read on the man and he'd made her relatively nervous. Years ago, Professor Stein had started a school for young women entering society. If the Albarn family had been able to afford such an education then Maka would have started attending back when she was eleven years old. Whenever Stein was around, he would offer her some reading materials and he kept her well supplied, so she'd gained some sort of education. He would often tell her that he thought she could go far. Of course, she'd never have guessed that this was what he had meant. Before the illness hit, Maka would have thought that Stein's Academy for Delicate Young Women was merely a school. It certainly was for most women, but like everything Professor Stein seemed to do, it had a darker layer to it. This one just happened to be an upscale prostitution ring.

She had come home late one night to find Stein sitting by their fireplace. At first she had thought that he was there to do some sort of business with her father. So it came as a surprise when he said that he was actually there to see her. After checking on her father and fixing a long overdue lunch, she sat down with him by the fire to talk.

_"I know things haven't been easy for you lately."_ That had been putting it mildly. _"But I've got a proposition for you."_

Maka had been spat out the broth she'd been sipping when the words "sex" and "money" came together in the same sentence. At first she had been adamant; there was no way that she was going to sell her body like that. She'd seen what had happened to other girls who had fallen to that lifestyle, even watched as the streets had slowly stolen away everything they held just for a loaf of bread at the end of the day. She wasn't going to allow herself to sink to that level. She'd been furious that her father's friend could even offer up such a suggestion. He'd stared at her quietly as she'd thrown a fit over the mere mention of such a career. Patiently, he had waited for her to calm down.

_"You've got it all wrong. I'm not asking you to walk the streets of Whitechapel. I'm merely offering you a chance to work. One house, with one person, to earn your keep. It's hardly different than working as a hand servant."_ Professor Stein had stayed rather monotone as he offered up a further description of the job. _"Just hear me out."_

He explained how jobs as servants were hard to find. That was the night she learned about how men would sometimes patronize a young and beautiful girl whom they could mold and keep at their side for whenever they had an ache of the masculine kind. No need to go out and find some girl when one was readily available right in your home. With so many questionable angles of prostitution and varied diseases, a beautiful young woman was a hot commodity. So while Stein's academy taught girls of wealth to one day be properly paraded around by husbands, it also taught girls of misfortune to be held in secret for basically the same purpose. No need for young men to worry about getting a noblewoman pregnant before marriage, and no reason to worry about disease from the every day common streetwalker. Professor Stein and his set of educators, like Miss Marie, were there to make the less fortunate girls shine like fine porcelain dolls ready to be plucked from a window shelf.

Maka had sent him on his way without an answer that first night. Her pride was severely wounded and she'd buried her face into her pillow and wept with the unfairness of it all. The bills kept coming and the food kept vanishing and her father was laid in bed and unable to even go out and clean shoes for a penny like he sometimes did. Medicine was expensive and doctor's even more so. She searched the papers for work, she begged at doorsteps, and even prayed for some sort of miracle to their situations. But miracles were on a shortage the same as meat, and Maka had run out of ideas.

The second time Stein had come around to ask, he'd brought with him a blonde woman that she now knew as Miss Marie. A previous personal assistant, who had spent years moving from one patron to another before retiring to pass on her knowledge to other girls. She and Stein had been partnered up for years now, though Maka wasn't sure how deep their feelings for each other ran. Miss Marie had a sort of wealthy air to her despite that she had really started out no different than Maka was now. She carried herself with grace and Maka could respect that. She didn't fit her original idea of what a prostitute was. Her clothes were not torn, and her face was extremely pretty; she wasn't marred by years of abuse. Miss Marie had immediately put her at ease in a way that Stein never could. Where Stein had made Maka feel like she would be signing away her body, Miss Marie made Maka feel as if she was merely offering a trade. She talked of the fineries that women of such power were offered. Apparently when sex was involved, men could easily become putty in their hands. Wealthy men with too much money on their hands were known to indulge in their playthings. They were acting out dating and marriage and young girl's like her reaped the benefits of that. Long after she'd made the decision she'd be warned about the dangerous sides, but that night Miss Marie and Professor Stein spoke only of how the entire situation would be beneficial to all parties.

It was all about money. Money was the reason that she had stared into the mirror at her naked body and wondered who would even want to buy such a skinny, boney thing like herself. Surely she wasn't desirable. Of course there was one thing she had that was worth it's weight in gold; her virginity. Such a treasured resource that one would have thought she could move the world with it. Men were such stupid things, she had decided as she threw back on her clothes and covered up. Yet if a man was foolish enough to buy her and if that meant saving her life and her father's life, then she swore she would toughen up her courage and face whatever new life the academy was going to place upon her. She was no coward; the world was much too hard a place for cowards. Life ate cowards alive and then spat out the remains to lay rotting on the sidewalks of London with the rest of the trash. Maka Albarn was not going to be tossed to the side like trash.

Her father had been proud to hear that his good friend would be taking her in at his school. She wasn't sure if he was purposefully oblivious or if he honestly thought that someone like her could marry wealthy. She let him live in whatever illusions he had of the situation. There was a certain irony to the fact that her father had paid for women on more than one occasion, and now his daughter was embarking on that path. She preferred for him to think that she was being trained as a lady. It was better for both of them to keep up that fantasy. She reassured herself that soon money would be coming in and things would start to get better for them. Later, when she signed her name on a dotted line, she knew she was signing away her freedom. She had told herself that she was okay with that.

There was the soft pressure of a hand on her shoulder. "Maka. Maka sweetie, we're almost there." For a moment it had sounded like her mother calling to her and she had leaned into the warmth of such a touch. It was broken as the carriage wheel caught on a rock and uncomfortably pulled her back to reality. It was now dark outside, but the rain had stopped. The horses were back on an actual stone road as was evident by the way their hooves clicked against the gravel, much different than the miles of dirt road they'd left behind them. "I'm surprised you could sleep at all given how rough it was getting."

"I must have just been really tired." And she was tired, tired of a lot of things, but more than anything sitting in a bouncy carriage that had left her with a rather numb bottom. Miss Marie leaned over to dab at her face. "Okay, I'm okay...I look fine."

"I know it's just that I want you to look your absolute best." Maka was pretty sure that best was not exactly something that was attainable. She looked better than usual. They had dressed her in a pale blue gown with ruffled sleeves and an appropriately low cut bodice. Her hair had been pulled out of it's typical twin ponytails and looped into a braided weave around her head. They were hoping to make her look innocent, as if a girl could be fully innocent after months of being trained in the art of what men would expect in the bedroom. Still, she looked the part and her innocence at least stretched to the fact that hearing about sex was not the same thing as experiencing it. That honor would be saved for her new owner. Her stomach tied in a familiar, but not pleasant knot and she found herself reaching for Miss Marie's hand.

A palm pressed to her cheek and she was met with a warm smile. "It won't be so bad. I promise, the first time is always the hardest, it gets easier after that. You're a smart girl Maka, I have no doubt that you can do this and be one of the best." Maka wasn't sure how one could ever be the best at a career like that, but some women made wealthy lives playing with men's hearts as they allowed men to play with their bodies.

"Thank you." She whispered to Miss Marie as the carriage came to a halt. The two women shared in a moment of understanding as they stared at each other. The driver came around to open the latch on the door and he offered his hand first to Miss Marie and then to Maka. She looked at his hand as if it were a foreign and untrustworthy object. In a knowing way her escort reached out instead to help her from the carriage. She wasn't sure she even trusted her feet, but she reminded herself that she was not a coward. One foot after another she stepped out from the carriage and into her new life.

Miss Marie smiled at the awestruck look on her face. "Maka, welcome to the Evan's Manor."


	2. The Evan's Family Manor

The house was so big that she's pretty sure it could be described as a miniature castle - or maybe even a real castle. It was quite lovely too. The moonlight had peeked out from behind the passing storm clouds and it layered the whole property in a beautiful if not haunting glow. Right now, there were several lights on inside of it, making it look warm and inviting. All around her is land; she couldn't even see where the next house might be. Even in the daylight, she was pretty sure that it was too far away to see. She had been told there are trees and gardens and stables and everything that a woman could ever want. She could even hear the sound of a fountain behind the carriage, but she was so fixated on the massive house in front of her to be bothered to really look at anything else.

The house is all stone and masonry, and from the looks of it, it stretches out quite a ways. She was suddenly worried that she might get lost in such a big home. The biggest ones that she had ever been inside were the townhomes that she would clean from time to time. Those and the academy, which wasn't really a home when it came down to it. The ground was still wet from the rain and her heels slipped a bit on the stone walkway as Miss Marie took her arm and pulled her along towards the steps. She was barely paying any attention and Miss Marie thought for a moment that she was losing her nerve.

"Maka? Maka?"

The third time her name was called Maka looked up. "Yeah?"

"Come on silly girl; pay attention." When Maka brought herself back to reality she realized that somehow she had made it from the steps of the carriage all the way to the front door. Not without some help, she reasoned.

"Oh, sorry." She mumbled. For once, it hadn't been nerves that had made her stomach knot up so tightly. Instead it had been the fascination of the place in front of her. Under different circumstances she may have found it all to be a great adventure. This was definitely like something out of one of her books. Miss Marie took one of the giant knockers in her hand and rapped it against the door. They stood in silence for a moment.

"Impressive, isn't it?" Maka nodded. "Mr. Evans owns several opera houses across Europe as well as doing business abroad. His wife is a very famous Opera singer and both of their children are prodigies with their respective instruments. I believe their older son is traveling around Europe at the moment playing concerts of his own creation. Violin is his specialty. The young boy, the one you'll be attending to, is versed in piano. I'm pretty sure they are related to the royals or something, some distant cousin through marriage." This was actually information that Maka had been fed earlier in the week after she'd had a very interesting meeting with Mr. Evans. She hadn't liked the man much and it had done little to ease her stomach when she realized he wasn't the one who was buying her. No, she was to be a gift for his younger son. The hope was that she could pull in his rebellious spirit and keep him focused. Word through the grapevine had it that there had already been a pregnancy scare that was being kept quiet due to the fact that the two families had not wanted their children to get married. False alarm, Maka could only assume. She really wasn't sure that she was going to enjoy the company of such a brash, spoiled young man who could take whatever he wanted. She was entirely prepared to dislike him.

The door finally opened, and a tall man stood in the doorway looking down at them. The butler, she supposed. He reached out to take her escort's hand and placed a kiss upon it. "Ahh, Miss Marie, how very good to see you again." Maka wondered just how they knew each other.

Miss Marie smiled brightly and placed a hand on Maka's back. "It is good to see you again as well. Let me introduce you to Maka Albarn. She's going to be working for the family. If you would be so kind as to inform Lord Evans of our presence?"

"A pleasure, Miss Albarn." Maka offered him a polite little curtsy. "Please do come in; his Lordship is busy in a meeting at the moment, but he will be with you shortly." The butler stepped to the side and held the door open wide for them. He led them to a parlor room. "Please make yourselves comfortable. Let me know if you need anything."

Maka could barely take in everything that was around her. She was surrounded by warmth and light and colors so exquisite that until that moment she could not even be sure that they had really existed. Everything in London was so dark and dreary and even the homes were not as bright as this one. There were lavish red curtains that draped down to accent windows that touched the ceiling. The sofas were covered in bold patterns that made them look like the fire roaring in the hearth, and the wood floors were decorated with exotic looking rugs. The whole place smelled of wealth; like perfume and the aroma of home cooked food. Her stomach actually growled for a moment in anticipation of an actual meal. Of course she was going to be fed here, and well kept. Not that they hadn't been attempting to fatten her up at the academy, but school food was different.

"You sound hungry. I'd forgotten we hadn't eaten an actual meal since breakfast. You take a seat and I'm going to go see if I can go find Jack." The Butler, she guessed. Apparently Miss Marie was plenty comfortable to walk around the house and was on a first name basis with the staff, or at least some of them. She wondered if there had ever been some spark or relationship between them. Not that it was really any of her business.

"Thank you." She mumbled softly, still trying to take in the entire place. She was feeling overwhelmed. Earlier that morning she had been an entirely different person, living in a different world. Perhaps food would help ease the discomfort of the situation.

Her thoughts of supper were pushed aside as her eyes fell onto a gorgeous black piano placed against the back of the room. It was probably the biggest piano that she had ever seen and she made her way over towards it. Music was not a big part of her life, but she had always been fascinated by it on a fundamental level. She ran a gloved hand over the smooth black of the instrument. Delicately she reached out to touch one of the ivory keys. It sounded odd, interesting and even pretty. The chord echoed in the room and she pressed another to fill the silence. Moving down the keys, she tapped each one and had made it halfway when a voice interrupted her.

"You play?"

It was the voice of a young man, and she spun around her cheeks crimson with the embarrassment of being caught. He must have been about her age, but he looked infinitely more refined. His black suit showed that he was no worker in this house. His face had a lazy sort of look upon it, one eyebrow lifted at her in an almost curious expression. She was quite sure that animals reflected upon other animals that way while trying to figure out if they were prey or not. Those eyes of his were almost hypnotizing and the way he looked at her made her sure that she wouldn't have stood a chance to get away if he had been intent on sucking the very soul out of her. She'd heard stories of vampires, and those teeth might have given her reason for pause, but she was intelligent enough to know such things didn't exist. Yet at the same time there was a sort of easiness to his posture and something extremely non threatening about him. It was very confusing to a young girl who had just spent the better part of a day traveling to a different world. Her stare must have given away her nerves and he ran a hand through his messy white hair before laughing.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

"I wasn't startled, I just wasn't expecting anyone." She turned away from him, back to looking at the piano. She could hear him approach her, and was acutely aware of his presence in the room.

"So, do you play?" She shook her head.

"No. I just haven't ever seen a piano like this before." She wanted to reach out and touch the keys again, just to try and understand the sound they could make, but she didn't dare with him standing there. "Do you?"

"When the need arises." The young man stuffed his hands into his pocket and took a seat. He continued to watch her with that same curious look. "So, care to tell me why you are banging the keys on the family's piano?"

She blushed deeply, fixating her eyes onto the ivory, but not daring to press a key again. "I was hardly banging! And I'm just waiting to speak to the Lord of this house."

He nodded. "On what business?"

Maka was starting to grow flustered with his excessive questioning. He hadn't even bothered to introduce himself and he was already giving her the third degree. Not to mention her own embarrassment at her present situation made it difficult to figure out what exactly to say about herself or why she was there. "I'm to be employed here." Well, it was the truth.

"That's quite a pretty dress for a maid." He lazily dragged his glance over her, reaching out to take one of her hands and look at the gloves. "Why I'm almost sure these are silk." She quickly pulled her hand back as if it had been burned. How rude could one man be!? Not that she didn't expect it of men at this point, always glancing at girls as if they were some fine delicacy that could be picked apart and savored. He chuckled again. It annoyed her that such a chuckle could pull at some deep and confusing place inside of her. The boy might have been handsome, but his manners were certainly lacking.

"Okay, sorry. Didn't mean to frighten you..." She opened her mouth to protest but he cut her off. "...let me guess; I just 'startled' you?" She turned away again and made her way over to look out the window, wishing there was more than darkness that she could see. "Hey look, I'm sorry. Whatever I did, I didn't mean it. You just don't look much like our maids, I figured you were some young noblewoman come to spend some time with family. My mother's had a habit of throwing them at me lately."

She continued to stare out the window. She felt so awkward and out of place. A million miles from everything that she knew and understood. She almost craved the damp apartment she shared with her father, just for the familiarity of it all. The last thing she needed was some rich boy to treat her as if she were dumb.

The boy stayed quiet for a while. She was unaware that his eyes were on her, and had changed to a more sympathetic nature. The terrible silence was broken with the sound of a single pure note from the piano. Then another and another. Soon the room was filled with the gentle playing of piano notes that offered her music in a way that she had never heard it before. Maka dared glance out of the corner of her eye towards the piano and could just see the boy concentrated on his art. He was no novice at such an instrument; in fact, he was the most exquisite musician that her ears had ever heard. With each note emotion seemed to flow through her. Each note that he struck hit a chord of emotion deep within her. She could feel the heaviness of the burden she was carrying and the weight of exhaustion settle over her. It was peaceful and safe and everything a person could want to feel from music. Leaning her forehead against the glass panel of window, she wondered how music could strip her so bare in such little time. She'd never fancied herself that vulnerable, but there she was feeling as raw as she had ever felt in her entire life. When the playing finally subsided, she opened her eyes just a little to look over at him. They stared at each other for a while and simply couldn't quite make sense of the other.  
Her voice was somewhat breathy; "That was bea..."

She was cut off by the loud screech of a woman who has torn her way into the room, looking furious. "What are you doing!? You are going to get marks all over my window!" Maka quickly pulls her head away and goes to wipe it off.

"I'm sorry..."

"Don't bother, just get your head off my window." The older woman was graying, with dark eyes and wrinkles that showed age. Maka wondered if those wrinkles have partly come from scrunching her face up into such an awkward look of distaste. It made her feel uneasy, the way she'd being stared at with such disdain, as if this woman could not even stomach her presence.

"Honestly," the boy drawled out, letting out a sigh. "It's just a damn window, it can be cleaned; she didn't do anything wrong." Maka guesses the mistake that she made was really more about existing than spots on windows. All the same, she went to smudge at the tiny mark her forehead had made with a gloved hand once more. The boy jumped up to reach over and still her movements. "Seriously, don't worry about that, my mother is overreacting." He turned and glared at his mother, who returned such glare with fire. She wasn't sure he would win the fight and she hated being caught in the middle of a family argument.

The son won and his mother gave a huff, looking away. "Nevermind, there isn't time for that right now. You're wanted in the office." He stood up and offered an apologetic smile to her, before walking past his mother and out of the room. Luckily, Maka wasn't alone in the room with her for long, because she's not sure she could hold her tongue if any other nasty words came out about that window. Being a proper lady was extremely tiring.  
Miss Marie entered and offered a polite curtsy to what Maka can only guess is the mistress of this manor. The woman gave another huff, glaring at Miss Marie, before exiting the room.

"Don't worry about her, she's all bark and no real bite. She has control over the house and the house alone; she won't get in your way. In fact, she often travels with her older son and you may not see her around all the time."

"Good." Maka can't stop herself from spitting out the word. "Do we have dinner?"

"It will be waiting for you in your room as will a nice hot bath after your meeting with Mr. Evans and his younger son." She wanted to skip the meeting and go right to her room and maybe just maybe have some freedom for a few minutes, but work was work. Luckily, they didn't have to wait much longer because the butler returned. He led them from the parlor and down through a series of hallways until they reached an office. They were ushered in and Maka got to look for a second time on the famous Mr. Evans.

She hadn't missed the man at all. One thing she knew about the lord of the house was that he enjoyed horses and had several prized ponies. When they had met, he had sized her up the way one would expect a man to size up a horse. She was far from pedigree, but he'd still walked around her, and placed his hands on her in a way that one would before they considered who to bet upon. He'd talked about her like she wasn't there and Maka had been purely terrified that he was actually considering taking her for himself. She wouldn't have been able to go through with it; in fact she'd already been planning her escape that night when he'd mentioned that she would be just fine for his son. Of course she wasn't sure at all what a child of this man's would be like, but at least he was apparently about her age. She could handle someone her own age.

"Ahhh. Miss Albarn. You are looking lovely." He spoke a little more kindly than he had a few weeks ago, but she far from trusted the older man. "I apologize for my wife, she has a certain way of handling things. My son informed me she was quite rude to you." Maka wanted to spit out that at least she hadn't introduced herself with a hand trailing her throat, but she held her tongue. Instead she offered a curtsy when indicated by Miss Marie. "Anyway, please come in and let me introduce you." Mr. Evans stood up from his desk and motioned to a large easy chair, which was apparently holding a person.

"Soul, do stand up and greet your guest." Obediently the boy in the chair rose. She sucked in her breath when she realized that she was now face to face with the piano player she'd met just moments ago. She felt like an idiot for not placing two and two together about him. Of course he was the son of Mr. Evans. They looked quite a bit alike, except that the son was far more attractive and held a more amusing look to him. He had been rude to her at first, but then he'd stood up for her. There was that beautiful piece of music that he'd played for her as well. She had no idea what exactly to think of him, and the realization that in a short time she'd be in his bed struck her in a very funny way. "Miss Albarn, this is my younger son, Soul Evans." She swallowed a knot that had formed in her throat and offered him a curtsy.

Soul didn't bow, didn't barely look at her, instead her turned to his father. "We've met' she told me she was the new maid."

"No, I didn't. I said I was to be employed here."

"Fine, whatever. She's an employee here. What's she to me?" She was once again struck by the fact that his looks couldn't cover up one hell of a sour attitude.

The father nodded. "She's going to be yours; an attendant, to keep you out of trouble. Your mother and I agreed that you need a companion, since you seem to get so lonely." Mr. Evans was putting a lot of emphasis on certain words, as if to try to delicately break that he'd gotten his son his own personal prostitute.

"Huh?"

"I'm to sleep with you." She finally just spat out.

"Maka!" Miss Marie all but hissed at her.

She was too tired of to be dealing with candy coating anything. She'd been told before her tongue would get her into trouble, but right then she didn't care; she had a foul taste in her mouth for the whole damn family.

Soul stared at her and blinked a couple of times, before slowly looking back to his father. "Excuse me?"

His father nodded. "She's a gift from us."

"I wasn't aware we were in the habit of giving people in this family." Soul looked downright disgusted. He turned around glancing at her for only a moment, obviously holding a temper. He then went to the door and sought out the butler that was patiently waiting outside. "Jack, will you show Miss Albarn to where she'll be staying? See that she has everything she needs; my father and I have some business to discuss." He didn't look at her again.

The whole conversation had all happened so quickly and she hadn't been sure what to expect, but the fury on the boy's face hadn't been one of them. As she was ushered from the room, she glanced over her shoulder to see Soul leaning on the desk straight into his father's face. She was glad to be getting the hell out of there, and all she could really process was that food, bath and a bed were close at hand and she was going to escape and pretend the rest of the world simply did not exist.


	3. The Obedient Son

A/N: From this chapter on out you can expect things to start steaming up between the two of them as they get to know each other better. Oh and also, I got Tsubaki in there finally! Thanks to my husband who took care of fixing my muddled tenses and grammatical errors. Hope you enjoy this sensual little tidbit.

When he was sure that Maka was out of earshot, Soul turned on his father. "What are you thinking!?"

His father had the audacity to look back at him stunned. "I really don't understand the problem. You seem to enjoy the company of women, and you keep nearly getting yourself into trouble. I went out of my way to find a perfect girl for you, someone you can have with you whenever the need arises."

Soul wiped his face in his hands. It was true; he was a very bored young man. He hated the pressures of his family life and the pressures of parents who wanted him to be the perfect musician that his elder brother was. The only relationship he really kept was the maddening love/hate one that he shared with his piano. The rest of the girls were merely a distraction. He felt bored, rebellious, and angry. Together those three things made a bad combination and he was always making decisions that his parents frowned upon. His mother was forever in tears over: "why couldn't her son be more like his older brother?" Girls tended to want him, and so he took them because for a few moments he could be their entire world. They took his mind off all the pressure and they made him feel wanted. He didn't want a girl who was paid to give her attention to him. "I've seen you do some low things, but this…this takes the cake."

"I really don't see why you are so upset, she's quite lovely."

"I'm upset because you bought me a girl! You have no idea how that looks? You might be into buying women, but I'm perfectly content to find my own."

His father stood up and slammed his fist down on the table so hard that Soul actually jumped back a bit. "'You're content to find your own'!? You've shown us just how content you are to 'find your own'. The last time you found your own, you nearly got her pregnant and our family was almost forced to make a deal. You can't continue to play around with noblewomen."

Soul rolled his eyes at his father. "She created the scare because she wanted to marry me. She asked, I said no. Suddenly she was afraid she was pregnant. I'm plenty careful." He really wasn't sure why he attracted women, they just always seemed to show interest; and while he considered himself a kind lover, he didn't want to involve himself further. He was far too messed up to throw that upon them.

"All the same, this is in your best interests." The corner of his father's mouth turned upwards into a smile. "Besides, she's a virgin."

"She's a person, not a virgin. Or well, maybe she's a virgin, I'm sure you're right, but she is just a girl, and you've brought here her to force her to want me. That's not a virginity I'm too keen on stealing. Women are far more interesting when they actually want it without money hanging over their heads."

"Sex is sex. Make her want you." His father knew that he had hit a point on that one. Soul paused, for the first time really thinking about the young woman in blue silk, with her head leaning against his mother's glass. She had looked so sad and he'd used that sadness to weave into the chords he was playing. There was something almost inspirational about her.

'Maka', was that her name? He was pretty sure that's what had been hissed at her after she'd sassed. She had a fire to her amidst that sadness, and given other circumstances he probably would have enjoyed getting to know her. He could send her back, but he knew what that could mean for a fragile young woman with her virginity still in tact. Could this Maka even want to be with him? Or was this merely an exchange of money , a contract where she would spread her legs when asked because that's what she was being bought for? It made him sick to think of only being wanted for that reason, both for selfish reasons and for her own dignity. It could be enjoyable to make her want it, to see if she could be brought around.

Seeing an opening, Soul's father stood up. "Look, she's a companion for you. Keep her to yourself; sleep with her when you need it. Hell, make love to her if it sounds better. She's yours to do with as you please. If you don't like her, I'll send her back."

He scoffed at his father, that familiar disgust for his family bubbling up. "It's that easy for you, isn't it? Just buy someone and if they aren't adequate you just send them away. She's a human being, and a sexually inexperienced one at that." He ran a hand through his already mussed up hair and moved to straighten out his suit.

"You're an Evans; I know you can teach her a thing or two. Your mother and I will find you an actual bride in time. We just have to finalize a match for your brother first."

"Good luck with that. Wes' only love is the violin. Always has been, always will." The way Soul talked about his brother showed a resentment that ran deep. He wanted to be happy for his older brother, but he was so tried of being compared to him and always coming up second place. His older brother loved him and supported him, but for Soul, somehow that support just boiled his blood that much more.

"Marriage isn't about love," his father said.

"That's obvious." Soul scoffed at the man he's somehow lost even more respect for. His father was living proof that marriage isn't about love. The marriage that he had with his wife was hardly one of a romantic and tender nature. They were an arranged marriage years previously and his father was ten years his mother's senior. This wasn't the first time that Miss Marie has been around the house; Soul had met her on a couple of occasions while his mother was traveling around with Wes. He figured his mother knew of her husband's infidelities, but she stayed quiet about it. Instead, she terrorized in a different way; expecting perfection from her children in a way she couldn't expect it of her husband. It had been a stifling environment to grow up in and it was really no wonder that Soul had a warped view of sex and romance.

Soul watched as his father's knuckles tightened until they whitened. He'd pushed the man too far, but after being given a prostitute as a birthday gift, he was pretty sure that he was justified. "Next year, when I ask for a puppy for my birthday, it's not some weird man code for woman, okay?" His tone was sarcastic; something his parents were endlessly familiar with. He turned around to head towards the door.

"What are you planning to do with her then?" The cold tone of his father was not lost on him; he'd made the man bitterly angry and he was sure that in his mind he was just an ungrateful brat who couldn't see what an amazing gift his parents had decided to allow him.

He didn't look back as he reached for the door. "I haven't decided yet, but until I do, just leave both of us alone." Soul didn't wait for a response. He opened the door and, just for good measure, slammed it heavily behind him.

* * *

Maka ate alone in her room. It was the best she had felt all day, alone and having finally filled her belly to the brim with the best soup she'd ever had. Miss Marie had bid her goodnight and told her that she'd be leaving her in the morning. The last thread connecting her to her home was packing up her bags and exiting the scene. She thought of her papa far away in London and it made her feel even more lonely. He wasn't the best father, but he was her father and she even missed his stupid goofball grins over her.

The room she had been given was modest. Despite it's lack of exquisite fineries that dressed the rest of the home, it was comfortable enough. A double bed sat in one corner with a plain quilt laid out on it. The pattern was faded, but she guessed that it had been in the family for years. There was a small fireplace that burned with a warm fire to heat the room. Autumn was nearly upon them and so the night's were getting colder. She could even hear the wind blowing against the glass of her tiny window. Everything was small, but for the first time everything was just hers. At home in London, she shared a bedroom with her father and they shared a bathroom with other tenants in the building.

She sat at a small table in the corner that was right below the window and she stared out of it. The moon had pushed through the clouds at this point and she could make out the shadows of trees blowing in the wind. Maka took comfort in the sounds of the crackling fireplace and the wind that whipped through the trees. It might have been just enough to help her doze off, if it hadn't been for the knock on the her bedroom door.

So much for privacy, she though to herself. "Who is it?"

"It's Tsubaki, Miss," A very sweet voice came from behind the door. "I'm one of the maids and I've come to collect your dinner dishes."

Maka gave word for her to enter. The girl that entered made Maka catch her breath. Tsubaki was lovely and tall with a long black ponytail that fell over her shoulders. She was dressed in a gown like the other maids, but there was a beauty to her that shone past it. While London was full of exotic people, Tsubaki was just stunning. Really, she would have made a far better courtesan than her; Maka was all bones and angles, where Tsubaki was voluptuous and curvy. Everything about her demeanor was so gentle and there was an ease that Maka instantly felt around her.

"Are you finished with supper than, Miss?"

Maka nodded. "It was delicious; my compliments to the cook. And please, call me Maka. I'm an employee here, same as you."

"Of course, Maka. I'll make sure to tell the cook that you approved. She'll be very happy to hear it. The master and mistress of the house aren't generous with their compliments." Tsubaki smiled and Maka wondered how much she would have been told about her employment. Obviously, she knew enough to know she wasn't a maid, because maids didn't wait on other maids. "Oh, and you can call me Tsubaki so that we are on a first name basis." A first name basis. The idea made her actually feel pleasantly uplifted. No "Miss" or "Sir" or "Madam" or any other formal term to remember. Maka approved, it was hard enough remembering all the other titles.

"Tsubaki? That's a really interesting name. I've never heard it before."

Tsubaki nodded as she began to gather up dishes. "I come from Japan."

"Japan?" It was an exotic location that was practically an entirely different world to Maka. She had read about it, she knew of it's trades, and most importantly, she knew of it's geishas. Some of the educators had lent them stories of the geishas of Japan and told them that if they truly wanted men to desire them, then they needed to be similar to the female entertainers of the far off country. Maka had yet to perfect it. "I'd love to hear about your home sometime."

"Gladly. I have lots of stories I could share with you." Tsubaki went to set the tray by the door, before grabbing two buckets and carrying them in. "I was told to draw you a bath."

"A bath sounds amazing." She stood up to move over and took one of the buckets from Tsubaki. It was full to the brim with what she guessed was boiling water. Tsubaki let her carry one with a grateful word of thanks. "I can't believe how grimy I feel; like I've taken the dirt of London with me." Against one wall, right by the fireplace, was a metal bathtub filled already with lukewarm water. They both poured the hot liquid from the buckets into the rest of the water and Maka reached in to run her fingers through it. The perfect temperature.

"The city is extremely dirty. I never minded moving out to the countryside. There is a lot to like about this place." She moved her hands to signal for Maka to turn around. She then set to unlacing the back of her dress.

There was silence for a while as the laces were undone, but once the top layer of dress was off, Maka could do the rest herself. "Hey, Tsubaki?"

"Mmm?" The other girl had moved to arrange oils and soaps next to the tub, setting out a fluffy towel for her.

"Is Soul…a good person?" It was a question that was weighing heavily on her mind. When he came for her, would he be gentle? Or would he take her and leave her with little else left of her dignity? Would he treat her like a person or property? She'd heard stories of all types.

Tsubaki stopped what she was doing and moved around to place her hands on her shoulders. "Listen; I know that this must be one of the scariest things you've ever had to do, but Soul isn't like his parents. You have nothing to be afraid of. I know why you are here." She laughed to brighten the spirit of the room. "I know pretty much everything about everyone here and I'll be happy to teach it all too you. In time. Right now, just enjoy your bath and don't worry about anything else. No one is going to hurt you here. Soul, well he's more likely to want to take care of you… he was even the one who told me to draw your bath for you."

Maka gave a weak nod, though the last part had a blush creeping up on her cheeks. Soul very well at this moment was somewhere in the house thinking about her bathing.

"I have go put the house to bed. The mistress is a monster when things aren't on time." She rolled her eyes and made for the door. "We'll get to know each other better tomorrow. If you need anything, my bedroom is right down at the end of the hall."

"Tsubaki…thank you." She meant it with every fiber of her being, because for the first time someone had just truly been kind to her. No shoving her around, no expectations; just kindness.

When she was again alone in the room, she found she almost wanted to rush out into the hall and offer to help with whatever chores she had, just to spend more time with her. However, the bath looked so inviting and the girl had taken such care to make it for her that she knew she could allow herself that luxury. Maka removed most of the rest of her clothing, keeping herself wrapped in only a very thin chemise that was not uncommon to bathe in. Something about being naked made her feel too vulnerable and that cloth made her feel a barrier between her body and the rest of the world. Carefully, she dipped her foot into the water, finding it almost unbearably warm, but she pushed herself the rest of the way in and sighed. It would cool too soon and the heat that colored her skin pink felt incredible anyway.

Never before had Maka had her own private room to bathe in. Since her apartment had a shared bathroom, there was really no way for her to get a moment alone in it. Sometimes, as she had matured, she'd stayed up late to sneak in a take a few moments to herself. There in the lukewarm (if not cold) water, she had explored the features of her ever changing body and curiously touched in places that made her feel embarrassed and ashamed. She didn't have much of a body, but she'd enjoy watching it change. Over the years her breasts had swelled enough to be considered adequate and her hips had curved to perhaps even be thought of as alluring. She laid her hand against her breast, feeling it through the thin material. Her other hand trailed over her stomach. Maka might have thought to touch herself further in that private moment. It was romantic enough, with the smell of a perfumed bath, the dimly lit room, the whispering wind. She might have pretended that she was really a lady awaiting an actual suitor.

That was, if there had not been another knock on the door.

"Tsubaki?" Her voice was a bit flustered as she splashed in the bath and brought her hands to more neutral areas.

The door creaked open and from a darkened hallway, a boy with white hair and red eyes poked his head through the doorway. "Not quite, but if she's more your style…"

"Don't be stupid! And what do you think you're doing sneaking up into my room this late at night without permission to enter?"

"Technically, I don't need permission." He took a step into the room, closing the door behind him. "However, if you are that desperate to get rid of me, I'll leave you alone. I didn't know that you'd be taking a bath."

"Yeah, right!" She pulled her arms around her legs and was suddenly even more grateful for whatever covering the chemise provided. "Tsubaki said you were the one that told her to make it for me."

"Oh? Did I?" He tried to sound innocent. "I just wanted you to be comfortable." He took a seat on the bed. There was silence for a long moment as the two sized each other up. Finally, he let out a sigh. "I really will leave if you want me to, but I just came to talk."

She thought for a long moment about it; there was something about his expression in the firelight that almost looked sad. Was this cocky boy actually unhappy? Had she made him so? It wouldn't have been hard to send him away, but it also would not be very acceptable the given situation. She would just have to make herself relax. They were going to end up in far more intimate situations than her taking a bath while still somewhat clothed. "You can stay."

He gave a nod, before standing up and moving over to sit by the bathtub. He held out his hand. "Soul."

Lifting one soaking hand she tentatively took it. "Ma…Maka."

He shook her hand, fingers tightening on hers and she found the firm embrace actually kind of nice in a way. When he took his hand back he ran it through his hair. "Hey, look; I feel like I need to apologize for earlier. My parents aren't exactly model citizens."

"Your mom knows about us, huh?

"Oh yeah. Which explains the complete overreaction of the window thing. She usually only mildly twitches at things like that."

Maka looked down at the water, splashing some of it. It was hard to enjoy anything knowing you could be hated for something when they didn't even think about why she'd chosen it in the first place. "I'm sure I'll get used to it."

"I'm sorry, Maka."

"It is what it is; I stopped caring about what people thought when I made this decision." It was a lie, but one she was trying to make sound confident. She supposed her face must not have shown so much confidence because he reached out to touch her cheek. He thumbed at it and stared so deeply into her eyes that she almost felt like he was looking straight into her. Maka was almost afraid he could see and hear everything she was thinking.

Soul didn't say anything more about it; instead, he reached up to the pins in her hair and slowly began plucking them one by one from her head. She hadn't realized just how much they had been digging into her scalp until he was pulling them free. He moved until he was sitting behind her, fingers working to untie braids and let her blonde hair completely fall free. Maka had once had hair that went all the way down her back, but she'd sold it for money a couple years ago. At this point it had only made it past her shoulder blades, but Soul seemed to find it enough to play with.

"The way I see it, all women are basically treated the same. My parents could have just as easily bought me a wife. It's all people seem to like to use your sex for; buying and selling. The only difference is some stupid invisible line of dignity. Oh, and the expectation of childbirth." He began massaging her scalp with his fingers, running them over her head and pressing them gently to her temples.

"I take herbs or tea. Something to stop that."

"Well, I guess we won't end up fucked then - at least in that department. So, see? You have less expectations put on you and more of the people who are staring at you angrily; as if you are doing something wrong. It's a messed up world." He leaned in against her ear, speaking in a whisper. "I like sex Maka. It feels good and my parents want me to have it with you. I'm supposed to be an obedient son."

She nodded a little. His touch was so gentle and his breath against her ear so delicate that she felt cradled in the warmth of it. She felt the warmth of water as he tilted her head back, hand under her chin, and poured water over her hair. He then reached out and plucked a perfumed soap from the tray to the side and rubbed it around in his hands. He made it lather. If he had this kind of affect on all women, then she can understand why he was so popular. Slowly, he worked the soap through her hair. His nails pressed around her scalp with such tenderness that it made her tingle. Soul took his time, helping to settle her into the bath, letting her feel his touch and she fount that she savored each second of it. Before washing her hair was a luxury; how he's making it so sensual was beyond her. He doesn't just focus on her hair, he pressed places on her neck, pushing his fingertips against spots that seemed connected to the more intimate places on her body. Maka can feel an ache building inside of her, that found its way straight to the sensitive area directly between her legs. The water is warm but her nipples are pressed to the gown as it clung to her body like a second skin.

He tilted her head forward, moving to rinse the soap from her scalp, and once clean, his lips pressed against the area where her neck and back meet. She jerked against him at the pleasing touch and she can feel him smile against her skin. He really was a cocky bastard of a man. It annoyed her and excited her all at once.

His hands moved up and down her arms while he peppered her neck with more kisses. He held back on being too intimate and she didn't dare ask for more than he was willing to give her. She wasn't sure she was doing it right, because she was sure the books had said things about being coy and playful and seductive with men. Yet here he was playing with her, in ways that she had never thought could even be so intimate. He dragged his teeth over that sensitive area her upper back and she gasped out again.

"Let me bathe you." He requested, his voice husky in her ear as he moved upwards to nip at her neck. It was all she could do to nod. Reaching under the water, his hands found the hem of her chemise, and together they moved in a way to get the fabric over her head. He dropped it to the side in a forgotten wet pile and moved to pull out another bottle of perfume. Her skin was slippery under his hand when he'd moved to lather her skin with it.

Up and down her arms he trailed his hands, kneading and massaging her skin. He wound his fingers through hers, pulling and tugging and squeezing at her hands. His chin rested against her shoulder and he kept his cheek pressed to hers while he works. Maka leaned back against him, a willing participant in the most erotic bath she had ever participated in. Anytime she went to turn or touch his arms, he gently placed them back into the water and continued to give his full attention to her.

After a while, he moved to her stomach, smoothing soap over it. He massaged her stomach moving up to trail his hands between her breasts. Both hands left touches of soap on her nipples as he delicately pinched them and was rewarded with an arched back and a soft delicate cry from her lips. Maka almost couldn't handle the teasing; one of her hands was shaking and she moved it down onto her stomach. Soul saw the change in it's placement and once against pressed his lips to her ear. "Go ahead, Maka; touch yourself."

She took the invitation, and without another thought, pressed her fingers between her thighs to part the swollen lips of her delicate skin. A gasp escaped her as her index finger found a pleasurable spot. She had only ever tentatively touched these areas, though at the academy they had been encouraged to explore and learn about their own flesh and what they liked. She'd tried, but it hadn't felt like this. He was giving her full permission to touch and the smile he still had pressed to her cheek was enough to let her know whatever she was doing was okay.

He continued to massage soap and oil onto her breasts and stomach. One hand dragged up to wrap gently around her throat. Her stroking at first was nervous and tentative. Soon however, she was rubbing and pinching with a vigor that she'd never felt before. A need was building inside of her and that need made her fingers work with a desperation. Maka gasped as she pushed one finger inside of herself and felt the very insides of her body curl around it. How interesting and pleasurable it was the way the walls seemed to close in and stay locked around her fingers. She circled the visible pleasure spots with her other fingers, working them over. She tested pressure and speed and found something that seemed to work just right to build the tension in her body. The world felt like it was spinning and while she felt like she'd get lost in the cycle he held her grounded.

"Just like that, keep it up. Feel everything. No, don't slow down. Keep going; you'll get there. Oh, Maka…you're heart is racing so fast." He whispered words of encouragement into her ear. Soul's hands stayed against her, a palm stretched against the area just above her heart and his other hand held to her shoulder. Some combination of the pleasure her fingers were giving her and the sensuality of his voice and the seduction of the entire situation threw her over the edge and she bit down on her lip to keep a cry stifled.

It took her awhile to come back down to reality, but when she did, her orgasm left her even more exhausted, though delightfully satisfied. Soul had somehow managed to erase the fear that had been hanging over her into a pleasant feeling of warmth and she was so grateful for that. She laid limply in the bath, his arms still around her. He pulled the fingers that had been inside of her out of the bath and pressed his lips against them.

"Beautiful…that was beautiful." She merely nodded in response. Maka might have stayed there forever, but the water was growing cold and he unwrapped himself from around her and reached for a towel. Her body was trembling as he lifted her from the bath and wrapped her in it.

"Soul…what was that?"

He laughed and tapped her on the nose. "That, Maka, was pleasure." Pleasure. If that was pleasure and she was to be a receiver of it, well…maybe this whole sex thing wasn't going to be so bad after all.

"Are we going to have sex now?" She was lifted up into his arms and brought over to a turned down bed. He lay her down, pulling up the blankets and tucking her in.

"No, not tonight. Now you are going to sleep."

She nodded. If that was what he wanted, her body was all to eager to oblige.


	4. Confrontation

Soul could not get her off of his mind. So of course he had done the only thing that seemed remotely reasonable; he'd kept his distance. Upon seeing her tapping the keys of his piano, Soul had thought that she was a girl his mother had told to come by. The daughter of a noble family back from boarding school and ready to be welcomed out into the world. She'd looked the part, with her pale blue gown and white gloved hands. There had been a delicate look to her, the way she nervously drew her fingers over the black and ivory. Pretty green eyes and blond hair that looked so well... symmetrical and balanced ...as a friend of his would say.

There had been an overwhelming sadness about her. Something about her had in just a brief moment stirred the very nature of music within him and he had felt compelled to play. He had let his fingers dance along the keys as if finding a way to speak to the girl without words. Rarely did he enjoy practicing with company around, but her presence was inviting. It had turned out that delicate may not have fully been the right word, after all she was the only one who had seen fit to blurt out the obvious sexual nature of her employment during their actual meeting. The girl had guts, he'd give her that.

Maka Albarn. Other than the fact that she was London born, he knew little about her. He hadn't even asked her why it was that she had chosen to accept her father's proposition, well, except for the obvious need of financial stability. The fact that Maka had left her home to travel to live with people that she did not know showed a certain element of bravery and he respected her. That was of course, the bottom line for why he had yet to drag her off to bed. Soul might have been considered a man who spent time with women, but he wasn't accustomed to paying for it. No, he wanted a woman to actually want him.

It had been a couple of days since he had intruded upon her bath. He hadn't really known what he was going to do when he'd entered that room. There was something fascinating about the fact that she was entirely his. This young and beautiful girl with her rounded, if not voluptuous, breasts and long legs had been chosen to attend to his every desire. Most men would take full advantage of that, yet it left him feeling a responsibility to take care of her. His only real plan that night had been to have a bath drawn for her for the purpose of such care. Soul hadn't felt embarrassed when he had entered the room to speak with her, but he would have been willing to leave should she had wished it. Maka had been cute when covered in blue and white lace, but in a bath the very essence of her body was displayed for him and if she had hoped a thin chemise would offer covering, she was greatly mistaken. It had knotted his stomach and some little part of his mind had reminded him that he could have her if he wanted. She seemed willing, but just in case he had mostly kept his hands to himself, letting her work her most intimate places on her own. He was positive that it was the most erotic thing that he had ever seen and he had been tempted to take her further when she had quietly asked for it as he'd tucked her in. She was tired though, and already spent from what he was assumed was her first orgasm. He wasn't going to take her like that, not when he hoped that she would come around to really want him.

Instead he had hurried back to his room to free himself from the confines of his own clothing. He had thought of her as he touched himself. He touched himself to the images of making love to her and replaced his own fingers mentally with hers. Would she be a gentle lover or would she become a woman who took control? Floods of images pushed him on as he moved himself in his hands, pulling at his hardened length and stroking with a speed that was typically reserved only for sex. When he came, he had leaned over his dresser and stared at his reflection. He didn't even know her and she already had such an affect on him. As he lay in bed that night, with her on his mind, he figured the only thing that he could do was keep an eye on her and try to figure out what exactly he should do with her next.

* * *

A couple of weeks passed with Soul standing to the sidelines and Maka unsure of what exactly the white haired boy was thinking. She found his negligence to be quite the irritation and it kept her constantly on her toes in wait of just what he was going to do to her. Every once in awhile she'd catch a cocky little smile when she'd pass him in the hall, but for the most part he said nothing to her even when she felt his eyes on her. There was little for her to do around the house and she wasn't making many friends. Of course there was Tsubaki who had welcomed her into her life. From Tsubaki, she learned of how the house was run and just who was who in the staff. For the most part, the staff saw her as an outsider, and she knew when she caught them whispering in a corner while staring at her that her profession was being called into question. Far too stubborn to allow petty girls to get at her she merely ignored them. When they had been particularly cruel and dared to use the word whore in front of her Tusbaki had jumped in and informed Maka that they were merely jealous of the fact that Soul's attention was no longer on them. In his boredom, it turned out that Soul had romanced more than one of the maids and Maka supposed that it may had been a factor in the distaste most of the staff had for her.

Maka felt endlessly lonely. Miss Marie had long since returned to Stein and his Academy and despite her growing friendship with Tsubaki, she felt alienated from the rest of the staff. She was supposed to act the part of a lady and so she was not allowed to participate in any of the house cleaning or grunt work that others did. Her job was to stay out of the way and attend to anything Soul might have needed. Except that he didn't seem to need anything. It left her living somewhere in the middle of the two classes, not quite able to connect with the staff, but not really accepted by high society either. Maka had been keeping to herself, taking comfort in the library as she read book after book. They took her away from the world for a little while, where there were no worries about staff, society, and especially the white haired boy who didn't appear to have any use for her. It worked for awhile to fade into the stories, but each day that passed brought her more frustration with the younger son.

She lay in bed one night, mulling over the indifference that Soul kept showing her, working through her mind the confusion of why he would be so delicate with her and then brush her aside. Her earlier bath had left her with memories of the pleasure he had brought her and an ache to feel such things again. The more she thought about it, the more she felt frustrated. Frustrated by the desire that he had woken in her and frustrated that he was not coming to teach her more. She was frustrated that he could barely be bothered to give her the time of day and that if it continued she was surely going to be sent back to the city for not performing. If she was sent away it would be all his fault and suddenly her mind was catastrophizing the situation, building to the images of being on the street and resorting to the degrading act of begging for money or offering her body in the back of an alley somewhere. It would be all the fault of some stupid, rich, stuck up boy who thought he could have whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. Maka hated the situation. She hated her father for his abuse of her mother that had led to her abandonment. She hated him for getting sick. She hated Stein for ever having seen her as a potential courtesan for some spoiled rich boy. She hated the Evans family for looking down on her. She hated the staff for daring to do the same when she had no more than them. Most of all, she hated Soul Evans, who didn't even seem to care one way or the other.

She rolled over to cry into her pillow over the frustration of it all, but her sobs were soon silenced by the distant notes of the piano off in another section of the house. The sound itself was beautiful although it had a hint of sadness in it's notes. If her emotions had not been so flared, the sweet if not haunting music would have lulled her fears and frustrations, letting her finally sleep. Instead it had her throwing off the covers of her bed and grabbing for her robe. In slippered feet, she left her bedroom and made her way down the flights of stairs and the hallways in the memorized direction of the piano room.  
Soul seemed shocked when the door to the music room was thrown open and a very angry young woman stood in the door. She could not have cared less.

"We have to talk." Slowly he pulled away from the piano and turned around on the bench to look over at her. Maka's chest rose and fell in such a way that he could only assume that she had been running. He found it extremely sensual the way her cheeks were flushed and he could just make out the curve of her breast where the robe parted. There was also the fact that while he'd had women look at him in many different ways, pure anger was not actually one of them.

He had to swallow before actually speaking to keep up his calm attitude. "Something on your mind?"

"I wouldn't be here if there wasn't." She crossed her arms over her chest and glared.

"Well please come in; but if you don't mind, could you close the door again? People are sleeping and I wouldn't want to wake them up." Maka did as requested, stepping into the room and shutting the heavy door behind her. Once again she was in the room with the thick red curtains and the roaring fireplace. It's atmosphere felt darker and heavier than she had originally thought. "Have a seat."

"No, I'd rather stand." Maka couldn't even think about sitting politely at a time like this. She was already finding herself nervous to broach the topic with Soul. It didn't seem to phase him any and he merely motioned with his hand for her to continue. "Is there something wrong with you?" Mentally, she cringed because that was not the way she had wanted to word her thoughts. She wasn't surprised by the shocked look on his face.

"Something wrong with me?" Part of him wanted to laugh at this girl because she genuinely made him smile. Another part was still a bit put off by the audacity of what she was asking.

"Yes. No. I mean, I want to know why you are giving me the cold shoulder. It's been a couple of weeks now and you haven't hardly spoken to me, let alone demanded anything from me." He kept staring at her with a calm look, despite the slight raise of an eyebrow. His lips moved into the smallest hint of a smirk and that reignited the flame of anger that had begun to boil as soon as his playing had hit her ears. "You always have that stupid grin on your face when I'm talking to you!"

He quickly stopped smiling. She seemed far too easy to piss off and he at least knew girls with tempers needed to be handled with care. "Sorry. Continue."

"Oh, I'll continue alright! I've been here for over a week now and we've barely even spoken. You seemed interested enough when you came to my bedroom that first night, but since then you don't even talk to me. I don't understand; you act like you don't want me, but you had no trouble touching me. Was it that horrible? Did I do something wrong?"

If he hadn't been frowning already, that certainly would have been cause for it. Soul had not taken into consideration just how much his indifference might have rubbed off on her the wrong way. He was a man who held back, who didn't just jump into a situation. Where he had merely been trying to figure her out, she had been dealing with insecurities and doubt.

"Well!?" She snapped, moving in on him. "Are you going to answer me?"

"I don't see what you're so worried about." He closed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. His voice stayed just barely above monotone and he kept his emotions out of his words. Turning back to the piano, he fiddled with the musical score. "It's like a vacation for you isn't it? You've had plenty of time to read and you obviously like reading." It was one thing he'd picked up about her. "You don't even have any chores to do, so you aren't being put to work."

"You are an idiot!" Maka felt like crying, His whole attitude came off cold and uncaring. "I have a job to do and you are not letting me do it!"

He laughed then, but did not turn around to face her. "You haven't exactly been knocking on my bedroom door, Miss Albarn."

"I've been waiting for you!" Was he really trying to blame her? She wasn't the one in control of the situation here, he was. It threw her that going to him and offering would have been an acceptable solution to everything.

"Well, forgive me for offering you the time to get settled first." His voice was cold and he focused on the musical score, shuffling it to get it back into place. Maka had never taken into consideration that perhaps he had been acting out of compassion and kindness for her, allowing her the time to adjust. She was not surrounded by kind and compassionate men. She had expected no less from him. Soul closed the lid of the piano and turned around to look at her. There was tension in every part of him and it made her uncomfortable. "If that's what you've been waiting for, by all means take off your clothes and we can get this over with, right here and right now. I wouldn't want to prevent such a lovely girl from doing her ijob/i. I should consider myself lucky."

Soul sounded angry. It made Maka's anger and temper seem small and she felt nervous the closer that he got to her. She swallowed and turned her back on him figuring it was probably best that she just leave. Soul didn't let her get to the door though, instead he moved to stand in front of it.

"Why are you leaving? I thought you wanted to move things forward between us." He was too close to her and she started to take a step backwards to move out of reach. Every step back that she took, he took a step forward. "Why so nervous, Miss Albarn?You enjoyed it before. There are so many more things that I could show you." He continued this advance on her until the piano bench caught the backs of her knees and she flopped to a seated position on the mahogany wood. He towered over her then and leaned his hands down the closed lid of the piano to stare at her.

She was there before him, vulnerable and delicate. Dressed in white cotton and lace, her robe was parted giving him a perfect view of her the top of her chest and a hint to what lay beneath. He reached down to the knot of her robe and undid it, pushing the fabric to the side. Once again all that barred him from her was a delicate chemise that could not even hide the hardened nipples. The very stereotype of a virginal woman sat before him, leaning backwards against his piano and watching him with wide, curious eyes to see what he was going to do next. It was a beautiful image and he was struck heavily by how badly he wanted her. It wasn't exactly the way he had been planning, but she'd certainly made herself clear to him that this was what she was here for. It angered him and he battled a part of himself that wanted to rip the very clothes from her body and give in to the building desire he'd had for since her arrival. If he took her like that, then he may as well have slept with some doll who could not tell him no and who would never offer anything of her own wants and desires. He had countless friends who saw women that way and he had prided himself on trying to find the person that lay underneath the the exterior of physical pleasures.

He moved one hand to her waist, watching her eyes closely, waiting for any sign to pull back. Maka's green eyes watched him and she gasped as he placed his hand over her breast, more roughly than he had intended to. Her heart was racing below his hand and he could feel the heat of her body. He was torn between the animalistic need to take her body as his own, and the human desire to cherish her. Reaching down, he pulled at the edge of her chemise, lifting it up and stroking his hand along her leg. When he got to her knees, he slid his fingers between them and slowly drew them up her thighs. "You have no idea how badly I want you, how much it hurts right now to not be inside of you. So is that what you want? For me to take you like this and be done with the act?"

She watched him, her heart racing in her chest and the entire situation felt wrong. He'd been so gentle during their bath and now he seemed cold and calculated and angry. Everything that she had been told in the academy was flashing before her eyes and she realized that this was exactly what she was supposed to be doing. So when the word "No", escaped her mouth she was shocked. He was allowed to have her any way that he wanted and if this was how it happened than she was supposed to be an obedient woman and allow him access to every part of her body. "No...please stop." Her voice was barely audible, but his hands were instantly stilled at her request and he did not make another move on her body.

"That's what I thought." The fear in her voice was more than enough to stop him. He felt as if he'd become lost in a moment of madness and he let out a slow breath to try and calm his nerves. His erection was pressing painfully against his pants, but he paid it no mind. Instead he knelt down a bit and reached out to brush a stray hair from her eyes. "You should expect more from a man than that."

Once again, Maka was struck by his gentleness and relieved to have it back. "What's the point of expecting more? I understood what I was getting into when I accepted your father's offer." She hated that he was right and that she had basically thrown away something that important because she had run out of options to pay for medicine. "I figured you'd sleep with me the first night I arrived. I accepted that. Why didn't you?"

"Sleep with a girl who has never known a man's touch, just for my own sexual needs? Not really appealing. I might as well just use my hand in that case, it's more experienced anyway." The cocky smile returned to his face, and he drew his thumb down her cheek. "On the other hand, making you want me and making this arrangement desirable for both of us...now that's enticing."

"So you ignored me instead?" Her voice was flat and the irritation not hard to pick up on.

He scratched at the back of his head. "I may have gotten a bit carried away."

"A little bit, yeah. Unless you think making a girl feel unimportant is a way to her heart." Maka's cheeks flushed. "Especially when you do something like that to her and then don't say anything."

Soul caught her blush and his grin widened. "Let me make it up to you?" His hand slipped to her thigh again and very tenderly he spread his fingers to part her legs a bit. "So long as you are now a willing participant."

Maka's thoughts raced back to the bath and how her own hand had felt slipping against the wetness of her body and the heat of her insides. There was something that she found so sensual and arousing about the man in front of her and she was sure that her body was not hiding that fact at all. Still, he waited for a vocal approval rather than a physical one. She gave a nod.

"Tell me I have permission to do as I please to you." He dragged his thumb over her mouth, smoothing the pad against her lower lip. "I want to hear you say it."

She took a moment to speak, but only because her mind felt hazy. "Yes."

Soul needed nothing more and he lifted her up from the bench to seat her on top of his piano. From there he took her ankles and settled them over the lid of his keys. He looked up at her from her seated position on his piano. The chemise was falling off her shoulder and he tugged it down to full expose her breasts leaning in to take one of her nipples into his lips. Her worked the bud in his mouth, gently nipping at the tip to get a stronger reaction out of her. She fanned her fingers on the wood to keep herself upright, but her arms were trembling.

When he was done sucking and laying kisses to her breasts, he pulled back to look up at her and moved his hands to her hair. Her hair was soft and her barely held back the desire to grip it in his hands and crush his mouth against hers. He managed however to just gently brush his lips against her own, not enough to be considered a proper kiss, but just enough to feel the tip of her tongue come out in hopes of meeting his. He could feel the way her lips opened in a gasp as he distracted her with the touch of his fingers between her legs. She was wet and aching and as he slid the tip of his finger over her clit and down to her opening he felt the way her body made an attempt to pull him in. Maka wanted him and he knew it as he teased her opening with a small circular motion.

"Lay back." He whispered against her mouth, and his free hand slid down her back to ease her to a laying position. From there he had perfect access to lift the nightgown up farther, the material no longer giving her any cover. He looked at her then, full view of her body spread before him. The fire was losing some of it's strength and in the orange glow of the firelight she looked like a pale heavenly creature. He didn't think anything could be more sensual than the image of a nearly naked woman spread on top of his piano and glistening in desire for him.

He pressed his lips to the inside of her thigh, and from there worked his mouth slowly up higher until he could breathe in the heady scent of her sex and it overwhelmed his senses to the point of nearly losing his mind. He could no longer hold back the pain that he felt from his own body and his free hand reached down to unbutton his trousers to free himself. Despite the need to touch himself, he kept his focus mainly on her and moved his lips closer to her until she was finally within reach of his tongue. He gave her a slow lick at first, drawing his tongue passionately over her center and let the way she tasted sink into him. He used her gasps as a guide as his tongue learned her sensitive areas and where felt the best to touch. When he pushed his finger deep inside of her body a moan erupted from her that pushed his body so close to the edge of an orgasm that he had to pause to calm himself down.

"Don't stop..." She begged and he quickly returned to his administrations of her sex. She was hot and tight and wet and a second finger was quickly added to her. He was glad that he was the one touching her this time, because he had envied those delicate fingers of hers as they had pleasured herself in the bath.

Maka's body was alive with feelings as he was teaching her. She found the feelings foreign but had no desire to stop. It was the most pleasurable feeling that she had ever felt and it only seemed to intensify as he continued to work on her. No one could have ever helped her understand just how good something like that could feel. They had told her about how she would put her mouth over him, but the things that could be done to a woman by a man had been conveniently left out. The only indication that she had ever had was the midnight whispering of girls who had felt such things.

The sounds of her moaning filled the room and she couldn't be bothered to care if someone else heard her. Soul was glad the rest of the house was sound asleep and he took those moans with pride as he continued to stroke the inside of her and lick the swollen bud of her clit to encourage her.

It felt like seconds or hours or days that she was lost in the feeling of what he was doing to her. She could recognize the build from the first climax he had given her, but this was more powerful and much more intimate. Her body was rocking against his lips, and her hand dared to reach down to hold him in place, to make it clear that she was unwilling to let him move now. The build continued and she focused on the way his fingers rubbed at a spot that seemed to throb from every single touch and the way his tongue lapped at her aroused flesh.

He continued to touch himself, stroking his length absent mindedly as his fingers stroked her. When a moan left his mouth, it rippled against her skin in a pleasing vibration that pushed her closer to the edge. He could feel how close she was and quickened his pace to try and tug her down off that edge. As Maka finally reached it, her voice was lost and her body froze except for a place deep inside of her that pulsed with the movement of each pleasing spasm. The way her body tightened and released around his fingers gave him images of just how it would feel when he was properly settled inside of her instead of those fingers. It was enough to push him over the edge and with one final stroke to his cock he spilled in his hand, wishing it was in her instead. That would be saved for another time, he could wait.

His fingers were pulled from her and she groaned at the way her body wanted to keep him closer. When she finally opened her eyes and her brain started to function normally again, she saw him sucking the juices off of his two fingers and it made her stomach flutter. Now that the act was done she once again felt slightly modest and closed her legs. He was putting himself back into his pants and doing up the buttons. It made her feel slightly embarrassed to realize that she actually really wanted to see what he looked like naked.

"Wait...why are you? Are you done?" She was shocked when he nodded. "Aren't I supposed to be the one to do that?" It made her feel slightly put out that he was not allowing her to help him and she wasn't sure why she was as eager as she was to do it.

He chuckled, a hint of exhaustion to his voice. "You will." He reached out to stroke her hair. "It'll be worth the wait."

"How long of a wait?" For all she knew it could be a month before he spoke to her. "Are you going to ignore me again?"

There was silence for a moment before he shook his head. "Actually, I have to go away for a few days." He reached up to help her off the piano and after finding her robe put it back around her shoulders. "I have to perform in a concert with my brother. That's actually why I was up so late practicing." A pang of guilt washed over her knowing that she'd picked a fight with him when he was working; probably not a good start even if it had ended well. "Hey it's no big deal, I'd much rather be doing what we just did any day. Anyway, I won't be gone more than a week, but you'll be on your own for awhile longer."

The idea was not exactly appealing, especially when she was now wanting to spend more time with her strange young master. Any anger she had towards him earlier was gone and left in it's place was a warmth and curiosity that she wanted him to satisfy. The disappointment must have been evident on her face because she felt his hand under her chin as he made her look up at him. "Don't look so put out, I'll be back soon. You can go on reading or something. Or better yet, don't stay cooped up here, go into town. I'll give you money to buy something nice."

She nodded. "When you get back will you ignore me?"

"No." There was a lengthy pause as he looked her over. Then he leaned down to press his lips against her cheek. "When I get back I'm going to make love to you." Soul Evans, had every intention of teaching her every last thing he knew about sex upon his return. He smiled at the shocked look on her face. Nothing else really needed to be said, so he leaned down and kissed her cheek. "Goodnight Maka."

With that, he was gone, and she was left to make her way back to her room alone. There was little hope of sleep right then, so when she made it to her bedroom she merely picked up her book. The story was lost on her though, because she couldn't stop thinking about how much she couldn't wait until he returned.


End file.
